Crossroads
by Inkyfingers2
Summary: How I envision the 2x22 finale happening. How it should play out in my professional opinion. Rachel, Finn, Puck, the perfect date, an accordion, a choice.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: AliasGrace07**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. But I'd like to.**

**Title: ****Crossroads**

**Pairing: Puck & Rachel, Rachel and Finn**

**Genre: romance, humor, dash of angst, hope**

**AN: This is how I envision the 2x22 finale happening. How it should play out in my professional opinion. Check out the song that influenced my writing this: Marketa Irglova, "Crossroads," on youtube. Lyrics at end of fic. Also this is my first foray into fanfiction…..so be gentle.**

Part I – _You wake up from dreams_

The gentle click of her heels against the cobblestone followed her as she walked along the empty NYC side street. The air was moist from rainfall and she wrapped her white shawl tightly around herself; she felt numb, not from cold but from what had just happened.

She had said no.

She had rejected the boy she was "in love" with.

Had turned her head away as his lowered towards her.

Why had she done that?

She felt herself become overwhelmed with doubt. Second guessing the decision she had made only 10 minutes earlier.

Her brows furrowed. Hadn't that moment been what she had been waiting for since that horrible episode buying Christmas trees? Hadn't she felt her heart shatter whenever she glimpsed him with Quinn?

But then the football game had happened _Let's kick some ass_  
>the party had happened<em> Needy girl drunk<em>  
>the celibacy club happened <em>are you lost?<em>  
>Regionals happened <em>get it right<em>  
>Her nose happened<em> give me one hour of your time<em>  
>Nationals happened <em><strong>I<strong>__ made it_

She had to stop moving. Stop walking. Stop thinking. She knew the third option wasn't possible but the first two were. She sat down on a large stone stairwell; unmindful of getting dirt on her dress (she really was lost in thought). The staircase led up to a grand oak doorway with brass handles. The kind of doorway you see in the movies; where the main character struts out, wearing a flowy dress and 4 inch heels ready to take on the big city. The kind of doorway she would walk out of one day. She was sure of it. Staring at the doorway her self doubt slowly dissipated. She had made the right choice.

She looked away from the door and took in the cobblestone street and well manicured trees evenly spaced on the sidewalk. The antique-looking street lamps offered a gentle glow to the area, it wasn't harsh or blinding. It was perfect. The whole scene was.

Strange, considering she was alone in it. She looked down at her hands grasping the shawl in her lap and thought about what had just occurred.

The day had been perfect. The absolute dream date.

She had on a pretty blue dress, her hair styled perfectly. He was in a suit and when she saw him on a small bridge in Central Park, flowers in his hand as he awkwardly bounced from leg to leg, she had stopped and stared. It was like a fairytale. She thought she had stepped into a Disney Movie. He turned, gave one his signature lopsided smiles and she slowly took the flowers from him and placed her hand in his.

She had been so enchanted at the time that she had failed to notice the lack of a racing heart beat, no knots in her stomach, no overwhelming burning where his hand touched her skin.

She was caught up in her fairytale. She had wanted this so badly. Her brain screamed at her that this was right. This was how it was supposed to be. It had drowned out her heart.

There was a walk, sunshine, flowers, idle chatter, dinner, soft looks, and gentle touches. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

She felt nothing. There was a moment during dinner when he had reached across the table to lace his fingers with hers, the lighting of the restaurant creating a painfully romantic ambience, when she had looked down at their entwined hands, recognized the distinct lack of feeling associated with the touch but then shoved it aside forcefully, looked back up at him and felt her smile almost split her face. He smiled back. This was what she wanted. This was everything to her.

It was. It was. It had to be.

She was in New York City. Broadway! Her home away from home. Her Future. On a dream date with her dream boy.

…The thing is you wake up from dreams.

She had tried desperately to remain in the dream. Clinging to this perfect fairytale. Sitting on the steps, alone, in the present, she knew the exact moment she had woken up.

After dinner they walked in silence. She had a running chant in her head. _Perfect Perfect Perfect Perfect Nothing Perfect_

He had veered her down a cozy side street; her eyes, shining as she took in every detail; desperate to fill her senses with every inch of New York City.

"I'm going to live here," She had said with utter conviction. "That one," she pointed to one of the apartments with a large door, with glass panes and brass twisted into decorative shapes. There were flower boxes with fuchsia petunias spilling over the sides and above it, lace curtains peeked out the slightly opened window.

She looked up at him, only to find him distracted. He seemed to be looking for something further down the street.

"Is everything ok?"

"What? Yeah, no, everything's great," he said hurriedly. His eyes darted to her for a second before returning to search down the street again. A look of relief came over his features and she followed his gaze to the dark outline of a man holding, what looked to her to be a large black box.

She tightened her hold on his arm and as they got closer to the man casually leaning against the brick building, the feint yellow glow of the street lamp allowed her to finally recognize who it was. And instead of a box in his arms, it was an accordion.

When they were about 10 steps away from him, he brought his fingers to the keys on the side of the instrument and began to play…that was when her heart stopped.

"Oh my gosh…" She whispered. Her hand came up to cover her mouth in surprise.

He began to sing, his head down, seeming to concentrate on the instrument in his arms. As she got closer to him, she noticed the three other boys leaning, and in one case sitting, against the brick as well.

She couldn't take her eyes of him. But it seemed that he was resolute in not looking up.

They walked past the group and she realized the singers had started to follow her and the boy whose arm she was linked to. Serenading her as she walked down a New York City street. She closed her eyes and leaned into the boy.

What's funny is she hadn't looked up at him. Not once. Her eyes had roamed over the four boys who were serenading her, but she hadn't for one second looked up at the boy who she assumed organized the whole thing.

The song was nearing the end and as the final line was sung she twisted slightly to look behind her. The boy playing the according hadn't once looked up at her as she passed but at that moment, singing the final _bella notte, _his eyes found hers and a small smile formed in the corner of his mouth.

She turned back around and her eyes fell to her feet. Watching each slow step. She knew without seeing that the four boys had dispersed and she was now alone with her dream boy.

Problem was she had finally woken up. As if with the end of the song came the end of her dream.

The boy breathed a sigh of relief. "Did you like it?" He asked eagerly.

"It was beautiful," she whispered. "Perfect."

He grinned and looked in the direction the quartet had left. "Yeah, it was Puck's idea, strange enough."

Her mind had evaporated. Which was quite a feet seeing as it was usually so full of ideas, thoughts, feelings, songs, questions, insecurities that she literally had to work herself to exhaustion just to fall asleep every night.

She knew in a moment of clarity that it was over. The perfect date, the perfect boy, the perfect couple.

Her heart had taken over. She could finally hear it now that the noise from her brain was gone.

The boy who had given her her dream date had stopped walking and turned towards her, grasping her hands in his, oblivious to her revelation.

She can't really remember what he said. Maybe she didn't care to listen because she knew what was coming. It was predictable. Cliché, Romantic. What she wanted.

His head lowered and…

"No."

The boys eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Questions and worry filled his puppy dog eyes.

"Wha…" She lifted her hand to silence him, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You were everything to me." At this admission, he smiled at her.

"And that's too much for you to be." The smile vanished.

"This," she said gesturing around, indicating the city, the apartments, the stars, her dreams, "this is everything to me. I want this. And I'm going to have this. And if you're my everything, than how can this place be my everything too? "

Short. Simple. To the point. Something she used to be good at but somewhere along the way had forgotten. It was back in full force now.

"I don't understand. I thought you wanted…what about at the show…when we kissed and stuff?"

She sighed. "I thought I wanted this too. And the show? I got lost in the moment, you could say, the performance, the audience, all the emotion. It was a wonderful kiss. But that's all it was. It was a show."

The silence of the street was broken only by the sounds of a police siren somewhere racing through the city.

He seemed to be struggling for words.

"This whole night was a dream come true. It was my dream date and I will never forget it. I felt special and chosen, by you. But now I get to choose."

She looked him right in the eye.

"And I choose me."

Judging by his expression, he still wasn't getting it. And she knew there was only one thing left to do. Something she was used to when it came to him.

She leaned up on her tip toes, kissed his cheek, and said with absolute sincerity," Thank you, Finn. Good night."

And she turned and walked away.

Rachel's eyes shone with tears, but they wouldn't fall. She wouldn't let them. Not this time.

End Part I.

"_Crossroad" by Marketa Irglova_

_It remains to be seen to which side I'm gonna move  
>Which road will I choose and will I win or will I lose?<br>I'm gonna come to my senses and see the light.  
>I'm letting go.<br>What I want now is to do what's right  
>However right I know, I'm here on my own.<br>It's just a crossroad.  
>Is the light red or is it green?<br>Givin' me the signals, I really don't know what they mean…  
>If I was a temporary plan, if I could only take a look and we would find<br>How simple it all is. How much do I need all this?  
>Is enough not enough? And am I really in love or is it nothing but a test?<br>If you wanna try me, go ahead and be my guest.  
>For myself, I'd like to know which way will it go I see it's undecided so I'll take it slow but as I regain my sight, I know I will do what's right<br>Indeed it's just a crossroad, one that I'm willing to clearly see, see things for what they really are and what I'd like them to be  
>There's nothing left to think about and I know you now.<br>I've no more doubt that I'm goin'.  
>Will you at least, will you sing for me please?<em>


	2. Chapter 2

Part II – _Walk me home_

She doesn't know how long she's been sitting on the steps of some luxury apartment. The cold from the late night was beginning to seep into her skin and she curled tightly into herself, hugging her thighs to her chest. Her eyes were closed as her forehead rested against her knees.

She was just thinking. Thinking about nothing. About everything. Where to go from here.

The simple answer was the hotel where they were staying. The complicated answer? She didn't know.

As her mind wandered to the bigger picture and life and 'Why are we here?' She knew she had severely veered off course in her musings. Luckily she was saved from herself when the once silent street she had wandered down filled with what sounded like a bunch of cats screeching (which considering she was in NYC, was a real possibility). There was a clank and then a gruff, "Son of a-"

Her eyes were wide as she scanned the street, looking for the source, suddenly realizing she was very alone, in a little dress, in New York City.

She spotted some movement across the street where the buildings split and a tiny alley she hadn't noticed before was. A man came barreling out of the alley, an accordion strapped to his chest, swearing up a storm.

"Fucking-stupid-alleyway-evil -huge-black-plague-carrying-mother-fucking-fuckers-"

Rolling her eyes at his language she decided to speak up, saving any other innocent bystanders from his poetic diatribe.

"Noah?"

The boy in question spun in surprise, squinting across the street to see the small girl in a blue dress, sitting on the steps up to some apartment.

"Berry?"

Confusion written all over his face, Puck made his way across the street and stood in front of her staring at her harshly.

"What the hell are you doing out here?"

"What are you doing down there?" She shot back.

"Oh, the alley?" He jerked his thumb towards the aforementioned alley. "Me and 'Guppy Mouth' thought we'd try and get into a bar, serenade some NYC ladies if you catch my drift."

She awarded that statement with an indulgent smile. "Caught it," she said.

"I mean I know it's an accordion and all but, come on, I'm still hot as hell."

Puck then proceeded to bring his arms up to flex – body builder style.

"Good Lord." Rachel said, dropping her face into her palm. "Let me guess, your efforts went unrewarded?"

"Psh, whatever, the bouncer was the size of a fuckin whale (he could still take him) and he may have heard me say that, and he may have called me a 'fuckin hipster,' and I may have punched him."

"Noah!"

"What?" His tone suggesting he was completely innocent in the whole thing. "He punched back! Put a hole through my sweet ass accordion."

Rachel glanced down, and sure enough there was a bouncer-sized fist hole (about the size of her head) in the center of the instrument.

Puck was looking down at the instrument mournfully.

"So what happened next?"

"Some asshole called the cops, so Evans and I booked it. I got a record after all; my ma would fuckin murder me."

She nodded as Puck moved to sit on the steps beside her. He plopped down heavily, the accordion still strapped to his chest humming out several tragic off-key notes.

"I kind of forgot what direction the hotel was in and Evans was already out of sight. Fucker didn't have a 50 pound brick strapped to his chest though, did he."

Puck recalled the fear he had felt (and would refuse to admit to) when he had looked up to find himself alone on some seedy street in the middle of New York City, with the cops possibly looking for him (he wasn't exactly inconspicuous - mowhawk, accordion…)

"So I heard sirens nearby and threw myself down an alleyway." He waved his hand in its direction and she noticed him shudder.

"Do not go down there," he said seriously, looking her in the eye.

"Ok," she smiled.

He nodded, satisfied, but stopped abruptly and rounded on her.

"Wait, why the fuck are you out here again? Alone I might fucking add. There might be some big mutant rat rapist waiting in an alley." At this he pointed to the alley he had emerged from. "Where the fuck is Finn?"

"Big mutant rat rapist?" She asked

"I've seen the ninja turtles, shit was dope. But Splinter rubbed me the wrong way." She rolled her eyes.

"That's not the point – what the fuck, Rachel? Where's Finn?"

She looked down at her shoes. "He's gone."

He stared at her blankly.

"I left." She clarified.

"What happened? I thought you two would be doing the dirty in his hotel bed by now."

She gave him a dry look at his assumption.

"Come on Berry, throw me a bone here, what the fuck is going on? I thought this was your dream come true," he said throwing up his hands in air quotes at the last bit.

"It was." She answered truthfully.

"Well then what the f-"

"Was, Noah, WAS," she said exasperated.

He shut his mouth and gave her a wary look, confusion still evident in his eyes. He stared at her for a second then leaned back, putting his elbows on the step above them. The accordion rang out another sad note and she smiled slightly as she looked over at him. He gestured with his hand for her to go on.

She sighed and went on, "It was a perfect date. It could have had the perfect ending, but I chose differently."

Simply put. Her life had become so simple. It was amazing.

"What did you choose?" He asked softly.

"Me." She said staring across the street, a resolute and determined expression on her face.

Puck gazed at her, trying to grasp the whole fucked up situation. He thought he knew exactly how the story was going to play out. He knew how it was _supposed_ to play out: A chick goes on the most romantic date ever with the guy she's madly in love with, flowers, candles, dinner, fuckin serenading, and happily ever after….in bed…naked.

But then _this_ chick had gone and done something totally out of left field. She really was fuckin crazy.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask where Finn was, but realized he didn't care where the goofy kid was. Little bit of a dick move, but whatever, for some reason when it came to Rachel, he was helpless against caring about her over most others. He never thought too much about it though (he swears he doesn't).

They sat in comfortable silence, him still reeling from finding her here, alone, and she, thinking about the date again.

He began to pick at a loose string on his jacket when she spoke up.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

She looked over at him and smiled, "Finn let slip whose idea _Bella Notte_ was."

Puck wouldn't look at her, "Yeah well I thought it was gonna get my boy laid is all…"

Her hand on his stopped him.

"It's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me…..apart from 'Barbravention.'"

He let out a chuckle.

"…and you did that too."

He shrugged his shoulders (as much as he could with the accordion strapped to him).

"Like I said, I thought my b-," he looked over at her and couldn't finish his sentence at the look she was giving him, so sincere, so heartfelt, "You're welcome," he mumbled.

There was another stretch of silence. Puck didn't have a clue what he was feeling. All he knew was that it was weird, uncomfortable and freaking the hell out of him. He recognized it. It was a feeling distinctly associated with Rachel friggen Berry. He had felt this way three times before. First when Rachel had broken up with him (whatever he was gonna do that anyway), second when they were rehearsing 'Need you Now' (Finn was pissing him off and whatever, the song talked about getting drunk, he was down for that) and third, earlier tonight (he was helping his bro out, it absolutely did not have to do with the girl, in her blue dress, dark hair falling into her eyes, smiling softly at him as she walked past- yeah he saw her looking at him).

He sighted loudly.

"So what now?"

Rachel smiled to herself and mused on the question she had been contemplating when she first sat down.

"Walk me home?"

"Well duh. I wasn't about to let you wander these mutant-rat infested streets alone." He moved to stand up, the accordion impeding him so that he did a half roll and pushed himself to his feet.

"It's shitty I don't have my nunchucks with me, left 'em in the hotel room," he said holding his hand out for her.

She laughed, "I've been meaning to ask how you managed to get those through airport security?"

"My charm, babe."

She rolled her eyes to the night sky as she placed her hand in his and was pulled up. "I know which one was your favorite ninja turtle then…skateboard, nunchucks, your insistence on calling everyone 'dude.'"

"Dude, Michelangelo is my boy."

She felt lighter as she began to walk in the direction the hotel was, turning to yank Noah's jacket when he took off in the opposite (wrong) direction.

After five minutes, Puck spoke up.

"So, you ok?"

"I will be," she said as she looked up at him.

He nudged her with his shoulder as they turned onto the semi-busy street where their hotel was.

The accordion on Puck's chest rang out another pathetic noise and Puck looked down at it all forlorn.

"Do you think it can be salvaged?" He asked.

Rachel looked at the obviously broken instrument and shook her head sadly.

Puck pouted, then reached up to remove the straps.

"I've been meaning to ask," Rachel said. "When did you buy an accordion?"

Puck smirked, "Buy? Nah, I stole it from the music hall after our performance."

"You didn't!" she exclaimed as she smacked his arm.

Puck's laughter rang out as she launched into a speech about musical property, the law, right and wrong, damaged property, etc., etc. She failed to notice him taking a step closer to an alleyway they were passing where he had spotted a bum wrapped in blankets and newspapers. He dropped the busted accordion next to the man, muttering, "It'll keep away the rats." (Cause at that point, the only noise it could make was of a bunch of wailing cats).

Returning to Rachel's side where she was now going on about the amendments or some shit, he interrupted her, "Yeah, yeah, I'll write them a note, Berry, chill out."

Rachel glared at him halfheartedly, a smile formed on her lips as he made a bowing gesture to her as they walked into their hotel.

For a brief moment she thought of Finn, where he was, what he was doing; then shook her head riding herself of those thoughts. She was done with that, done thinking about him, the past, the date, the future, done analyzing it. She was here, now. Walking next to a boy with a mohawk, an old jacket, who steals accordions. Quite the juxtaposition against the boy she had been with earlier. With the gelled hair, crisp suit, and bouquet of purchased flowers.

Puck punched the up button for the elevator as Rachel glanced around the hotel lobby. She suddenly realized how exhausted she was. She was definitely ready to climb into bed next to Tina (Quinn refused to room with her). God she hoped Tina and Mike weren't engaging in some lewd hotel fantasy. The chime of the elevator broke into her thoughts and she walked past Puck, who was holding the door for her.

Her body sagged against one of the mirrored walls and she closed her eyes with a sigh. The sounds of a random piano tune filled her ears.

She peeked over at the boy currently leaning against the mirrored wall to her right. His eyes were closed and he was bobbing his head to the random music. She couldn't help the soft smile that overtook her features. How she ended up here she'd never understand.

But somewhere deep inside her, she knew she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

End.

**AN: I hope you enjoyed it!**

"_Crossroad" by Marketa Irglova_

_It remains to be seen to which side I'm gonna move  
>Which road will I choose and will I win or will I lose?<br>I'm gonna come to my senses and see the light.  
>I'm letting go.<br>What I want now is to do what's right  
>However right I know, I'm here on my own.<br>It's just a crossroad.  
>Is the light red or is it green?<br>Givin' me the signals, I really don't know what they mean…  
>If I was a temporary plan, if I could only take a look and we would find<br>How simple it all is. How much do I need all this?  
>Is enough not enough? And am I really in love or is it nothing but a test?<br>If you wanna try me, go ahead and be my guest.  
>For myself, I'd like to know which way will it go I see it's undecided so I'll take it slow but as I regain my sight, I know I will do what's right<br>Indeed it's just a crossroad, one that I'm willing to clearly see, see things for what they really are and what I'd like them to be  
>There's nothing left to think about and I know you now.<br>I've no more doubt that I'm goin'.  
>Will you at least, will you sing for me please?<em>


End file.
